


a well kept promise

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if Dean Winchester is going to be the death of him, this definitely beats going to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a well kept promise

**Author's Note:**

> this is sort of a prequel to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/971155) story, which was posted back in 2013, but it can definitely be read as a standalone as well.

Castiel is supposed to be at work. 

It's just after two in the morning and if he'd done what he was supposed to, he'd be standing behind the counter at the Gas-N-Sip he's working at for the summer. He'd be wearing the royal blue vest that serves at his uniform and standing behind the counter, selling lukewarm coffee and lottery tickets to truckers and insomniacs. 

Really, the job isn't that bad. Most nights, even on the weekend, there isn't a lot of traffic. As long as he keeps the place clean and occasionally checks on the florescent orange nacho cheese and rubbery hot dogs, his boss doesn't care if he spends the rest of the night behind the counter, flipping through some of the magazines or watching the television that's bolted to the wall above him. 

Still, while the job is alright and while he needs all the money he can get for college, there are some days where he just can't resist the temptation of green eyes, freckles, and a deep voice. So three hours ago, after his parents both went to bed, he called in sick to work, pulling off a very convincing cough that had the night manager practically begging him to stay home and get some sleep.

He'd waited another hour before climbing from his window and walking the few blocks to the massive parking lot of the nearest big box store. His ride had awaited him, beckoning him in with muffled rock music and the promise of lips against his skin. 

Now, he's outside, standing in the middle of one of the numerous corn fields that surround the town. His shirt is pushed up and his trousers and briefs are pooled around his feet. His chest is pressed against the hood of a 1967 Impala, hands splayed across the surface for purchase. 

There's a cold breeze trailing up his legs and warm metal pressed against his front and in between, the perfect spot between two extremes, is Dean. 

"You're doing so well," he says against the inside of Castiel's thigh, swollen lips brushing over his skin. His teeth gently press into skin that's already been marked and Cas groans as he pushes backwards into the touch. 

"Please," he sighs, curling his fingers against the Impala's hood. Dean has been opening him up for what feels like ages, using only his tongue and lips. The inside of Castiel's thighs are sticky with saliva; every time he thinks that it might start to dry, Dean just adds more.

"Not yet," Dean says firmly. His calloused hands smooth up the back of Cas' spread legs. He uses his thumbs to gently pull Cas open and when his tongue swipes broadly over Castiel's hole, he drops his forehead against the hood. 

"Dean," he groans, reaching backwards until his fingers skim over Dean's hair. " _Please._ " 

"Let's see." With a puff of warm breath, Dean pulls back. Two of his fingers take his mouth's place, easily sliding in and punching a gasp from Castiel's chest. He tilts his hips back in a silent plea for more but just as soon as Cas moves, Dean leaves again. When Cas lets out another frustrated groan, Dean chuckles and presses his lips against the dip at the base of Castiel's spine. 

"Be patient," he murmurs, mouth trailing lower. "I said that I was going to lick you open and I'm a man of my word. I think we just need a little bit more." With that, his tongue slides inside and Castiel drops his head against the hood again, not even bothering to bite back the curse that falls from his lips. 

Even if Dean Winchester is going to be the death of him, this definitely beats going to work.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
